


murder & mayhem

by Chesra



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chesra/pseuds/Chesra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when you play the Hunger Games, you play to win. The Hunger Games from Clove's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	murder & mayhem

  
Your name is Clove, and this may possibly be the best day of your life.  
  
You've been trained all your life to be a Tribute. You've dreamed of it, even; the Victor's Village in your District are full of people living their lives in easy lounging. All you've ever wanted is to be one them. You will come home with laurels and a crown and the crowd will cheer your name.  
  
Your name is the lucky one that gets picked from thousands of slips. You see the envious looks from the crowd. You go up the stage, and the Capitol lady raises your arm. The applause is thunderous, and you shout "For District 2!" The mentors all look on approvingly. They've seen you in training; you are not pretty - never have been - but you are strong, fast, and deadly. You won't win points like the District 1 girls always do, but you will top the ranking on strength even if you have to kill someone.  
  
Suddenly, someone moves out of the organized line of the boys. "I volunteer," he says, pushing himself forward, smiling at you in extreme confidence. You half-scowl, half-smile at him. "I volunteer as the Tribute of District 2!" He pumps his fist in the air, and the crowd goes wild.  
  
Cato, oh Cato. He had always been such a sucker for attention. He climbs up the stage, smiling at everyone. You shake hands afterwards, and then it's off to closed doors and quick goodbyes ("You'll be sure to win," your father says, his eyes full of excitement and only the tiniest hint of fear; your mother fusses over your hair and reminds you not to smile with your teeth "because you look terrible when you do," she says, almost despairingly) and then the train. It is all a rush, a blur. Your stomach is still turning from sheer excitement. Breathlessly you sink into a nearby chair, and you stare at the fast-moving scenery outside the train.  
  
"Hey," a voice says, and you turn to find Cato leaning against the door, smiling. You sigh, just a bit, then pat the chair beside yours. He sits beside you. "Isn't this amazing?"  
  
"I'm the lucky one who got chosen," you say. "I didn't  volunteer. " You think volunteering is such an easy way to get chosen. Whatever happened to luck? Cato was lucky no one else dared to counter his choice. Three years ago, two boys had volunteered and had to fight it out who would have the honor of participating in the Hunger Games.  
  
He shrugs. "It's my last year, Clove," he says. "It's now or never. Besides...it might be interesting this time, with you as my fellow tribute." He smirks again, and you sort of ignore the weird fluttering in your chest.  
  
"We'll have to kill each other, you know," you say, as you reach for some nearby butter knife. You idly twirl them; these things are barely deadly, but your nerves are getting a bit out of hand. Holding something sharp and pointy makes you feel slightly better.  
  
"Then I guess it'll prove which one of us is really better," Cato says. You roll your eyes, and he casually bumps against your shoulder.  
  
"You never had anything on me during our trainings," you say. "You're too damned slow, idiot." But your eyes are shining with affection. Cato is undeniably one of the academy favorites; strong, funny and good-looking. Many girls in the District have always been enamored by him.  
  
And while you would say you only admired him for his strength, you'd have to blind not to notice his other merits.  
  
He just laughs. "We'll see." He reaches for a nearby pastry. "Hey, have you tried any of this stuff? Really fucking tasty."  
  
The two of you end up having a competition on who can eat the most food in the compartment, and your mentors come upon the two of you laughing as you stuff pastry after pastry into your mouths.  
  
This, you tell yourself, is going to be the best few weeks in your life.  
  
\--  
  
The Capitol is just as magical as you imagined it. You're not much for aesthetic beauty, but this place is nothing like you've ever known. You are led to your stylists, who sigh just a bit over your lack of natural beauty, "But it's nothing makeup can't fix, darling," your head stylist drawls, and then she dabs so much stuff on your face you feel like you are carrying the weight of a cake. You take it like a man, though.  
  
And when they twirl you around to look at the giant mirrors you can barely recognize yourself.  
  
When Cato sees you he bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, what have they done to you?" You flush and glare at him, giving him a harder punch on the arm than you intended. It's not your fault you're not pretty, like the girl from District 1. You can see her from this view; beautiful blonde hair, dressed in jewels. She looks fantastic, and you secretly hate her already.  
  
Later though, as you get off the carriage and Cato is gentlemanly enough to help you off (which is a first), Cato pulls you close and says, "Don't worry. Right now, you are prettier than that stupid girl on fire." And you almost smile, because this is the closest you can get to a compliment from him.  
  
Training starts the next day, and you feel at home at the Center right away. You try all the knives, throw them everywhere, watch as it zings past other people, watch them flinch and stare warily at you.  This,  you think,  this is what you were made to do.  Not wear pretty dresses or look beautiful. You are here to watch all these other people die.  
  
You see the District 1 girl near Cato and you, carefully, throw a knife in their direction. The girl catches it, turns to you, and smiles sweetly. You are almost impressed.  
  
"I'm Glimmer," she says as you join them. "You're pretty good."  
  
"You're not bad yourself," you say. You've seen her with a sword, and even a spear. "I'm Clove."  
  
Cato puts his arm around Glimmer, and you feel the slightest twist of envy. "Well ladies, I'm glad we're all getting along in here."  
  
Later Glimmer's fellow District tribute joins you, a tall boy with brown hair. He's nowhere near as strong as Cato, you decide, but you humor him nonetheless. In the training days that follow, the four of you become oddly inseparable.  
  
"Alliances are good," your mentor says after you mention it during dinner. "District 1 and District 2 always ally themselves."  
  
Clove smiles as he stabs the slab of meat in front of him. "Yeah. Besides, in the end we know who's going to win." He turns to smirk at you, and you almost chuckle at his ruthlessness. All that touchy-feely things with Glimmer is going to come to an end when he cuts her heart out with a sword.  
  
You're not stupid enough to trust  anyone  in these games.  
  
The interview happens the next day. You watch as Glimmer wins over the crowd with her winning smile and sexy dress. You can't top that, you think dully, but Cato whispers into your ear "You got a 10, this interview doesn't matter," and you almost cheer up. You don't do half-bad. You watch Cato's interview afterwards; he's perfect, just the right mix of everything you could want in a winning tribute. You'd hate him for it, but you find it a challenge instead.  
  
When the Games begin, none of these will matter.  
  
It's not until District 12 male tribute starts giving the Game a stupid love angle that you get enraged, though. Oh, of course Miss Girl on Fire got an eleven. Not that she did anything that even looked remotely good during training. But her interview was a flop; if it weren't for her stupid burning dress, no one would be interested.  
  
But suddenly Lover Boy has to suddenly make some damned drama, and you know the Capitol is just eating it up. Beside you, even Cato looks the faintest bit irritated.  
  
"I wonder if people think their love will get them through the games," he says.  
  
You laugh. "Their love? What the hell, Cato. I don't think she even likes him. Did you see her face? It took her by surprise."  
  
He shook his head. "They'd be stupid not to work with this angle," he says. "It could work."  
  
You scoff. "You kill one of them and that's story's over."  
  
He looks at you then. "What if it's real, though?"  
  
You stare back. "That's unlikely."  
  
His eyes are unreadable. "That you'll end up coming to the Games with the person you like?"  
  
"The chances are crazy, okay?" You snap. "There are thousands of slips in that damn bowl. It's never going to happen."  
  
Cato raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. If you say so." Then he leaves the room, leaving you feeling empty and confused.  
  
The idea was preposterous. Of course this was just some bullshit District 12 came up with.  
  
You go back to your room and lie down in bed, but the anticipation is making it difficult to sleep. You need sleep; you need to be ready for tomorrow.  
  
But you can't.  
  
You go out of your room and almost collide with Cato on your way out.  
  
"Hey," he says, looking as surprised as you.  
  
"Hey," you say softly. The hallway is dark, and quiet. Your mentors have gone to sleep. Everybody must be excited for the Games.  
  
"You ready for tomorrow?" he asks, and you nod. There is nothing to say for a few moments.  
  
"Clove," he suddenly says, and his tone is serious. "Let's make a pact."  
  
"A what?" you say, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"That we'll be the last to die in the Hunger Games," he continues seriously.  
  
You nearly laugh. "What the fuck, Cato?"  
  
"I don't want to be killed by someone else," he says stubbornly. "And I don't think I can be killed by someone else, anyway. You're the only one who's a threat."  
  
You smile. "The Girl on Fire got eleven, though," you say.  
  
"Hah. I'll set her on fire and we'll see if she still won't burn," Cato says. "So, come on. Promise me. We'll survive until the end...then we'll finally have a chance to see who's stronger."  
  
"And then we'll kill everyone else before that?" You say, grinning. "I like that."  
  
"So?" he holds out his hand and you shake it. "May the odds be ever in our favor," he says, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance.  
  
After that you go back to your room, and you drift off to sleep easier than ever.

  
  
\--

 

The first day of the Games is easy, so unbelievably easy. You kill two or three tributes. You  almost  got the stupid District 12 girl, too. When you go back to the Cornucopia, there are two new additions to your alliance; the District 4 girl, and District 12 boy.  
  
You frown at Lover Boy. "What is  he  doing here?" You ask Cato, who's standing by Glimmer. He's still playing his game with her, how adorable.  
  
"He'll lead us straight to his darling," Glimmer says. "Won't you?"  
  
He nods. "I want to join you," he says.  
  
"And why should we let you?" you ask, circling him in a predatory manner. "Maybe you'll just betray us when you find your precious little girl."  
  
He looks down. "You saw her," he says. "She just left me behind. She...she never wanted me. I'll get her back for it." He clenches his fist.  
  
Wow. What a total psycho. You roll your eyes and look back at your team. Marvel shrugs, Glimmer sighs and Cato smirks. You allow the two join in your little team.  
  
You settle down and decide to eat a bit before you hunt down the rest of the Tributes. Cato orders the two new members to go gather wood, and they dutifully follow, eager to prove their loyalty. When they're gone, you all sort of chuckle at how stupid they are.  
  
"So what will happen?" Marvel asks as you sit around the makeshift campfire near the Cornucopia. "Once we've killed all of them?"  
  
You grin ferally. "We give them a show, of course. A four-way showdown. Wouldn't that be a Hunger Games to remember?"  and none of this star-crossed lovers bullshit,  you add in your head.  
  
Glimmer tosses her head towards where Lover Boy and the District 4 girl are gathering wood for the fire. "Don't they count?"  
  
Cato laughs. "Do you honestly think we'll let them live long enough for the final day?" And the four of you laugh, in almost easy camaraderie.  
  
Afterwards you move out, kill some stupid Tribute who was silly enough to light a fire. District 12 has the honor of killing her. You shake your head. "He's a psycho," you whisper to Cato.  
  
"Don't worry, he'll be an easy kill with four of us," he says.  
  
All of you cheerfully return to the Cornucopia, basking in the reruns of the dead.  
  
\--  
  
Things go awry after that.  
  
For one, after you find the stupid Girl on Fire, she manages to escape AND kill Glimmer and the District 4 girl. You're all stung by trackerjackers; fortunately your mentors are smart enough to get you medicine, though it doesn't help any of the swelling. You know by now that Lover Boy is a threat, and you watch with glee as Cato cuts him down. The wound is not immediately fatal, but without treatment he will die in a few days.  
  
"Leave him there to die," you say. "Slowly. His precious darling won't be coming back for him now."  
  
You all kick him around before leaving him there.  
  
Afterwards another tribute comes crawling towards you. He'll bomb the whole Cornucopia, he says. To keep it safe from anyone else. You watch him do his work.  Useful,  you think, and Cato and Marvel agree. You'll kill him later on. Give him a few days to live on hope.  
  
You all spot a campfire later on. "It's her," you say, your hands twitching in anticipation. You will get back at that stupid girl, for all this painful swelling all over your body.  
  
Cato nods. "When we find her, I kill her in my own way and no one interferes." You roll your eyes but let him lead the way.  
  
But while you are gone, someone comes and sets off the mines, and now you are all left without food. You run back but it's already too late. Cato is furious by now; all his plans are not going well. Cato kills the stupid District 3 boy in his rage, and you try to calm him down afterwards. "Whoever it was, they're likely to be dead," Marvel reasons, and together you wait for the cannon. But no; only they only show the recently deceased District 3 boy, and the District 10 boy you already killed earlier.  
  
Cato clenches his fist. "It's her," he snarls. "It's always her, that damn bitch!"  
  
You grab his arm. "We'll have her," you hiss. "Come on, it's nearly night and she'll be blind. We've got night vision. She can't have gone far." Already this District 12 girl has caused enough trouble for you. You're not going to let her go easily.  
  
You decide splitting up would get you farther; there are only eight tributes left, and five of them are enemies. One is likely to be dead soon. That left barely any threats. You go separate ways and try hunting all over, but you catch no sight of the District 12 girl.  
  
You meet up with Cato nearby the spring, and by the look on his face he hasn't seen hide nor hair of her. You almost scream in frustration.  
  
Unexpectedly, a cannon sounds, and the two of you turn around at the sound. Perhaps Marvel has gotten to her? You almost sigh; you can't believe you've lost the chance to cut her open.  
  
But a few seconds later, Marvel's face is staring right at you in the Capitol report. It takes you by shock. What the hell. Afterwards another cannon, and next it's the District 11 girl. You bite your lip so hard it nearly bleeds.  
  
"I bet it was her," you say. "Miss Girl on Fire. That little District 11 girl was always following her. I bet they formed an alliance and killed Marvel!"  
  
"At least it's good to know Marvel got the other one," Cato says.  
  
"She's the one who blew up all our supplies!" You say. By now it's personal. You want that girl and you want her dead. "She's killed half our team! She's a threat, Cato, and I won't rest until I've cut out that heart of hers!"  
  
Cato stares at you, sensing your bloodlust. He grins. "Don't worry," he murmurs. "We'll get her."  
  
\--  
  
Later that night, as you huddle together at the Cornucopia tent, hungry and frustrated, you hear Cladius Templesmith announcing something. You hope for a feast; an excuse to murder other Tributes and get more food.  
  
What he announces is far better than a feast, though. The new rule says that if the last two tributes are from the same district, they can both go home.  
  
You turn to each other at the news.  Two tributes, same district, you think, in shock.  
  
 _We can go home together._  
  
Suddenly Cato pulls you into an embrace, tight and warm, so close you almost choke.   
  
"Clove," he says, and you can hear the joy in his tone. "We're going to win. And we're going home."  
  
"Yes!" you say, burying yourself in his arms.  
  
The knowledge that you can go home, that you won't have to actually kill him is a blinding relief. The two of you fall to the ground, laughing, suddenly just children again. "We'll win this," he keeps saying, smiling as he strokes your hair. "And then we'll be crowned victors. That'll be amazing, right?"  
  
"Yeah," you say, imagining living in Victor Village. Seeing Cato every day. Your heart feels so full at the idea. "And then we'll eat so much food."  
  
"So much," he agrees, laughing. You're still holding onto each other. You never want to let go. You lay on his chest and listen to him breathe.  
  
"I'm hungry," you say afterwards. Cato sighs. "Yeah, I know. All our supplies gone in an instant," he says, with just a hint of bitterness. "I'll hunt, and you stay here, okay?" He kisses you in the forehead, something he's never done before. You look up at him with wide eyes but he's already standing up and walking away.  
  
And you think,  _Oh._  
  
  
  
When he comes back with some little rabbit you both attempt to cook it in the fire, with ridiculous results. You make a face as you eat. It's better than nothing, though. You comfort yourself with the idea that once you win, you can eat anything and everything you want.  
  
The fire is burning low and this is the first time the two of you have been completely alone since the Game began. You don't know why but suddenly you just have to ask. There's something been gnawing at you since the night before the Games, and you haven't given it thought until now. Rather, you chose not to think about it, but with the current change of rules...  
  
"Why did you volunteer?" you ask, idly.  
  
Cato blinks. The question seems to have taken him by surprise. "I already told you. It's my last year. If I don't get in, I'll just end up being a Peacekeeper."  
  
"Oh," you say.  
  
Cato moves, and puts an arm around your waist. "Do you want to hear another reason?" he asks teasingly.  
  
"Don't be stupid," you say, though you bet your face is flaming. "Also, this is on television, so shut up."  
  
"I bet they're too busy filming the star-crossed lovers, though," Cato says. "They're probably making out."  
  
"Ugh! Cato!" You say, almost scandalized.  
  
Cato laughs. "It's true. Why would the Gamemakers change the rules? Clearly those two are bringing in some ratings."  
  
"Too bad we don't have a romantic love angle to beat them," you murmur.  
  
Cato dips his head close to your neck, and you almost stop breathing. "You sure about that?"  
  
You close your eyes. "If you say something stupid like you volunteered for the Games just because I got reaped, I'll punch you in the face."  
  
Cato pulls away, half-laughing. You can't read his smile. You've never been afraid of him, no matter how dangerous he is, but right now you don't think you can look at him in the eye.  
  
"No, that would be stupid," he agrees. "After all, there's only one victor."  
  
 _Not this time,_ you want to say. But you can't. Cato says he'll take first watch, and you let tiredness lull you to sleep, not dwelling on feelings you don't understand.  
  
  
You spend the next two days hunting for food and for the District 12 star-crossed lovers. Both are futile attempts. You're terribly frustrated by then, when Cladius Templesmith makes another welcome announcement. A feast, he says, with something you all need. You can practically feel your collection of knives and armor waiting for you the next day.  
  
"She'll come," Cato says. "Lover Boy is hanging on but he's going to die soon, with the wound I gave him."  
  
"I want her," you hiss. "I want to make her suffer. I'll cut her from limb to limb."  
  
Clove looks at you. "Okay," he says. "You get dibs, I guess."  
  
You almost raise an eyebrow. "Wow. I thought  you  wanted the honor of killing her."  
  
"It doesn't matter who kills her now," he says. "As long as she stays dead."  
  
You smirk, but deep down you're giddy. Cato is giving you this kill. It's almost euphoric. It's possibly the best thing he can ever give to you.  
  
"I'll be nearby watching out for the other Tributes. Give you enough time to kill her," he promises. Every sentence he says is like some sort of dream.  
  
"Are you sure you're the real Cato?" you tease, and he laughs. He's never looked so happy, even though you're both tired and hungry.  
  
"We'll end this game tomorrow," he tells you. "We'll be going home."  
  
"We'll be going home," you echo, and he pulls you close again. You've never realized until now, but Cato has always been affectionate. All that time with Glimmer; even though it had all been a pretext, had just been an excuse for Cato to touch someone. It's surprising to realize this so late in the game, when you've known Cato even in the District. But then again, he wasn't exactly hanging around with you all that time before the Hunger Games. Sure, you saw him around. But it wasn't as if you moved in the same spaces.  
  
But that would change though, when you went back home. You'll be two different people. He might feel differently about you. Maybe.  
  
You almost smile.  
  
The next day, you lie in wait. Some other girl comes and grabs her backpack, but you ignore that. She's no threat. When the braided girl finally sprints out of her hiding place, you throw your knives straight at her. It misses, and she has the nerve to send an arrow to your arm. You wince, and now you're really angry. You run after her and just as she grabs her backpack, you throw your next knife, straight to her forehead. Then you pounce on her, sending her sprawling to the ground.  
  
This is your moment. You're finally going to kill this stupid girl and you're going to enjoy it. You're going to taunt her and watch her bleed. You remind her about her precious little ally, who Marvel killed so easily. She spits on you and you feel the rage bubbling up in you. Oh, you are going to cut her open and make every single person she loves watching the screen scream in horror.  
  
But before you can, someone grabs you, and suddenly you're above the ground and you can't breathe. Someone has you on a headlock.  
  
"No," you beg, almost delirious as the District 11 boy clutches you in his rage. He's choking you. You're going to die. Oh my god, you are going to die.  
  
He flings you to the ground, screaming at you about the little girl. You say no, it wasn't you, then you see the rock in his hand. You panic and scream. "Cato, Cato!"  
  
"Clove!" you hear, from far away.  Cato,  you think, helplessly. He's too far, he'll never get here in time. Your eyes are filled with tears.  
  
 _You were going to go home together._  
  
The District 11 boy hits you with the rock and you crash on the ground and moan. You're dying. You're dying, and Cato is too far away--  
  
"Clove!" and suddenly he's already beside you, his hand warm on yours. "Don't go. Oh fucking hell, don't go Clove, I can't, stay with me please," he begs, but you can barely see him. Is he crying? You can't tell. Your vision is hazy and blurred.  
  
"Cato," you rasp out. "Cato, you have to win," your voice is barely a whisper.  
  
"Clove," he says, and his voice is shaking. "Clove, who did this to you? Tell me!"  
  
"District 11," you whisper, and the faint idea that Cato is going to avenge your death pleases you.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, I couldn't protect you, I'm sorry," he says, and he sounds so helpless and unlike himself. You try to reach out for his face but you can't find the strength.  
  
"Clove," he says again. "Clove, please, I'm sorry, don't leave me, please!"  
  
"Cato," you whisper. You're failing. You close your eyes. "I- " What could you say?  I love you  was too dramatic, and even now you're not even sure if it's real. You don't want to say anything that you feel could be a lie. Not now.  
  
"Please win," you say instead, your voice barely a whisper. You don't even know if he can still hear you. "Kill them all, and win."  
  
The last thing you remember is Cato's teardrops hitting your cheek.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> written for my lovely friend Sandy, who got me into shipping Cato/Clove. and posted due to [Aeneid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeneid), who reminded me of this fic's existence.


End file.
